


Marriage Prospects

by Ulan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Arranged Marriages, Drunken Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Insomnia nobility does omiai and you can take this HC from my cold and dead fingers, M/M, drunk and pining gladio, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25380046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/pseuds/Ulan
Summary: One evening, Gladio decides: "I wanna marry Ignis."Noct does not even look away from his game when he says, "Dude, that's gross."Or the one where Gladio gets drunk and proceeds to dictate to his future king whom he should be arranged to marry.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 23
Kudos: 141





	Marriage Prospects

**Author's Note:**

> I have been sitting on this exchange between Gladio and Noctis since 2018, but I never figured out what to do with it until now. *awkward laugh* Better late than never?
> 
> Set a year or two before the game. Noct and Prompto can legally drink because we all know neither Gladio nor Ignis is gonna let that slide.

One evening, Gladio decides: "I wanna marry Ignis."

Granted, he didn't mean to declare that decision so loudly and so out of the blue, but come to think of it, with Noct there, saying it makes a whole lot of sense. 

The Prince though does not even look away from his game when he says, "Dude, that's gross."

It was a Friday night and so they decided to hang out at Noct's that day. They are now at the tail end of the evening, the clock already having ticked past midnight. Prompto is already snoring on a stack of pillows on the floor, his ears still flushed red from the empty bottles in front of him. 

_Such a lightweight,_ thinks Gladio as he looks at the younger boy. His drinking buddy having forsaken him, he turns again to Noct, who had been too engrossed in his new game to have drunk much over the course of the evening.

Noct cries out an indignant, "Hey!" but it falls on deaf ears as Gladio leans heavily over and takes the controller from him and pauses the game. Although he has been doing well in training, Noct is still weaker than his taller, broader future shield, and he is no match for the other, especially with Prompto out cold and lending no help. 

"This's 'mportant, so you listen, okay?" Gladio’s mouth does not quite obey as well as it usually does, and his breath still tastes of the juice and the alcohol he and Prompto were mixing up just earlier. Was it really all gone? "Noooctt…" He tries for speech again anyway—this is an important discussion, after all—and even lifts a swaying finger to Noct's face (which the Prince immediately shoves away). "Look. Someday, ya gotta make me marry Iggy."

Noctis scrunches his face, twisting away to avoid his friend's beer breath. "Why do I have to get involved? Just go and marry him yourself."

Gladio clicks his tongue. "Nah see, but you gotta help," insists the future shield. "'m at that age, y'know? Can get matched anytime. But if I do, rememb'r tha' it's gotta be Iggy."

It's been nagging at him for quite a while ever since his dad mentioned it some months ago. Gladio doesn't really expect his dad to push the issue, at least not for a few more years, but the idea is there, and so are folders with potential matches' photos and profiles starting to litter Gladio's desk. 

Gladio has checked out some of them, but the nagging feeling is always there. Having all those suggestions only brought home the question of what exactly Gladio was looking for in a partner. It was surprising how fast he was able to assess those candidates. 

_(Not cute enough, not smart enough, not quite tall nor strong enough…)_

"Iggy'ss great," Gladio says wistfully, words coming slow and somewhat slurred as his mind scans through the files he remembers and thinking, _hah, they got nothing on Iggy._ "Iggy is so smart and sss’nice... you know how rare that is among nobl-- nobil...lility?" He frowns as he struggles with that word, but still pushes on, arms locking tight around Noct's neck. "He's so talend- tal'n-- he beats me in practice like half the time now, you know? And th’guy cooks like a bloody dream. Imagine waking up err’day to Iggy’s cooking."

Noct—whose meals are, indeed, prepared by Ignis—answers, deadpan. "Yeah, imagine."

"And his face?" Gladio groans as Ignis' face appears at the forefront of his mind, all perfect angles and perfectly chiseled with his perfect glasses and his perfect smile. "Ramuh, have you seen his face?"

"Gladio, I wake up to that face, like, _daily._ The guy is practically my alarm clock."

"’Yer so luckyyyy…" He pats Noct's face in envy, but the Prince just shoves his hand away again. Gladio doesn't really mind, too distracted to care. "Man, I love his face. It's so--" handsome, sweet, a sight for sore eyes on a long day "--smooth."

Noct snorts. "His face is smooth?"

"Yeah, s'smooth," grunts Gladio. "He always looks so neat and clean. I think maybe Iggy bathes err'y hour. He is the most presen’nable, han'somest guy I know."

Noctis hums. "Is 'handsomest' a word?"

"When he looks at you, doesn't it just make you wanna kiss him?"

"Eew, no."

Gladio ruffles Noct's hair, which earns him another hiss of annoyance from the Prince. "Well, you can't kiss him anyway, or I'll smack ya." 

Smack... mm'yeah, because Iggy does have a nice ass, too, and Astrals the guy's got legs _for days._ "Fuck, he is so sexy, too. Have y’seen ‘im? And his voice? Does he know he sounds like that? When he talks to me I just--” Gladio misses the look of horror on Noctis’ face from all that’s being said about his adviser. “An’ he smells so good, I'm gonna die."

Right then it really hits him, and he stares bleary-eyed at the ceiling. Someday he will spend his whole life with just one person, and it's scary to think about how easily things can go wrong deciding something like that. Political marriages happen all the time in their circle, and Gladio can't help but wonder how people deal with it when they already have someone they like.

Of course he has thought about asking Iggy out. He's probably thought about going for it since they were, hell, sixteen? Seventeen? It's kind of tough not to notice when Iggy has grown up stupidly hot and capable. Crushing on a friend is probably one of the most unoriginal things in the book, but there it is for Gladio. High school came in and suddenly people started dating left and right, but while Gladio never lacked for admirers, it became increasingly difficult to deny that his eyes always strayed elsewhere and always to the same place.

But Iggy is his friend… a very good one at that, especially given how they have gotten close the past few years. They all but grew up together, saw each other around so often in the Citadel because of their shared responsibilities for Noct. They didn’t have as much interaction as kids, but as they got older and became more hands-on with their duties, they were suddenly constantly in each other's space, and Gladio got to know the guy he used to only see from afar. Small talk turned to deep conversations, and Gladio was pleasantly surprised they liked much the same books and the same things. Their shared training time became things Gladio looked forward to every week that came, and it just became easy coming to Iggy whenever something caused Gladio stress, having to juggle school and Citadel duties the way they had to. Eventually, even with Noct and Prompto around, it was always Iggy whom Gladio connected with the most, the other's trust and friendship one of the most precious things Gladio has in his albeit still short existence. 

So yeah, maybe it can work, but what if it doesn't? What if he isn't Iggy's type? Iggy would probably let Gladio down easy, but no matter how nicely he says it, rejection from him is going to hurt like the pits. Just thinking about Iggy being with someone else, _wanting_ to be with someone else, makes the bile rise up to Gladio's throat. 

"Gods," he says, this time the words meaning so much to him they scratch at his throat. "I wanna marry Iggy."

He's all but forgotten present company, but Noct's snorting laugh jars him out of his misery. "Man, you are so wasted," says the Prince in between loud snorts and giggles. Suddenly his face even gets closer to Gladio. "Oh my God, are you crying? Holy shit, where's Prom's camera?"

That gets Noctis shoved by his face, but the young royal was too busy laughing to mind. Gladio sniffs and clicks his tongue at him again.

"'M not cryin' you dick."

"Ooohhoho, language. What will Iggy say?"

Noctis is making such a ruckus, but at that point Gladio can't bring himself to care. Instead, he thinks about his life if he were to spend it with Ignis, and then thinks about his life without him. The difference between the two is stark.

"I dunno what I'll do if he says no," he mumbles at Noct’s ceiling.

"Ugh, how come I never knew you were an ugly drunk?"

"Noct. Noctis…” Gladio grabs for Noct again. "Ya gotta give me Iggy, or yer gon' get it from me, y’hear?"

"You realise if anything happens to me, that means you failed spectacularly as my shield?"

"Im'ma protect ya some od'r time.”

Finally Noctis sighs and shoves Gladio away one final time. He gets up from the couch and pats down his shirt where it got wrinkled from the older man’s manhandling. He scans the devastation that is his living room, his eyes flitting to the kitchen and the Six only know what else, before settling back at Gladio. 

"I'll keep it in mind, big guy."

"Good boy, good boy," mumbles Gladio, his eyelids too heavy now to really keep open for long. "As'srals my throat hurts."

There is a heavy thud following Gladio falling back against the couch, all muscle and dead limbs falling wherever they may land. The picture of his supposedly disciplined and often strict future shield all twisted in knots on his couch gets Noctis started again, and he snorts and bends over in a fit of laughter. 

"Holy shit," the future king manages between wheezes.

***

Waking up to a hangover is never fun. 

Gladio's head feels heavy as he tries to blink back the last of his sleep. There is a kink in his neck from spending the night on a couch too short for his height, and his mouth feels like someone just shoved an entire pack of cotton in there overnight. 

The curtains, at least, were kept closed by some angel who also seemed to have tidied up the room. Even in the dim light, Gladio can tell that the coffee table between the couch and TV is clear of last night's empty bottles and crumbs of chips, and even Noct's console is neatly tucked back into place. 

Next comes a glass of water, placed in front of Gladio's face and looking promisingly cool from the condensation on the glass. A small vial is also held up beside it, neatly trimmed nails on long fingers around the potion's neck. 

"For the hangover," comes Ignis' voice, cool and quiet and soothing in the wake of an unpleasant morning-after. Gladio groans his relief, just from that.

"Iggy, you're a godsend." He takes the offerings and downs them quickly, only too eager for the relief they promise. 

"It isn't like you to get so drunk, but I suppose in the future we ought to take care of every bottle you receive from the Glaives."

"That shitty geezer Nyx didn't even warn me," grunts Gladio as he twists the cork back on the vial. Ignis extends a hand and Gladio gratefully hands him the empty glass. "Sorry Iggy,” he tells the other. “I hope I wasn't too much trouble yesterday."

"No serious harm done," says Ignis, his expression schooled in its usual calm nonchalance. "Although you were rather insistent on the merits of… discussing your marriage prospects with Noct. Or rather, your preference as to _whom_ it should be."

For a moment, Gladio draws a blank, the potion still on its way to working its magic that Ignis' words do not quite immediately sink in. Inevitably though, they do, and the memories come back to Gladio first like a drizzle of rain, and then like a splash of cold water poured down his back. 

"Oh shit." Everything he said to Noctis… "You heard--?"

"Difficult not to hear considering that I was only tidying up the kitchen on the other side of the room."

Of course he was, and _of course Gladio knew that_ , but his stupid drunk brain conveniently forgot last night when he started yapping at Noct. 

"Shit." His head falls on his hands as the weight of what just happened dawns on him. "Shit, Iggy, I--" 

The couch dips beside him as Ignis moves to sit, and Gladio has to be the most pathetic kind of fool to still be distracted by that, giddy despite the fact that he also flinches at the other’s sudden proximity. Ignis though takes his time, his expression thoughtful and neutral. Despite his nerves, Gladio still can’t help but glance up and suck his breath in at the soft way Iggy’s lashes brush against his cheekbones, his gaze turned thoughtfully down. 

"Did you mean it?" Ignis asks. 

Gladio bites his lips at the question, kicking his stupid drunk self for the shit he has to muck through now. "Six, Iggy, I mean… anybody set up to marry you would be lucky."

"That is not what I am asking, though." 

It’s just too bad the potion worked maybe too well, because otherwise Gladio would have been glad to wade through the hangover instead of this, his feelings apparently having been laid bare without filter to the very man he is head over heels for. There is no fooling Ignis either, the guy sometimes too sharp for his or anybody else’s good. 

"You wish to marry me, Gladio?"

A myriad of possible, vague, but ultimately safer answers come to mind. One can only be so lucky to be married to Ignis Scientia. It'd be convenient to watch over Noct together without having to think about family outside of their lives at the Citadel. Their families are both of good standing, trusted by the Crown, and they can understand each other in ways few people without these responsibilities can. 

But the truth is none of these things. The truth is Gladio just does, over no other reason other than that he’s the kind of foolish, easy schmuck who fell for his gorgeous colleague-turned-best friend, and no amount of reasoning about how complicated it might make things if they do not work out could talk him out of it. He wants it to be with Ignis, to freely love him and to not have to hide it from his face when the other is across the council room, or the gym, or Noctis’ bloody apartment. He wants to come home to his own place filled with the smell of Ignis' cooking, to the sight of his soft smile, given sparingly but for those who are important to him. To be the one Ignis smiles to the most, to be the one he thinks about and does things for...

"I do." He breathes the words out, let out now when they were previously held tight and reigned in. "Shit, I do, Iggy. I've wanted it to be you from the moment I knew it could even _be_ possible that it’d be chosen for me."

"You do know you are free to choose for yourself as well," says Ignis. "Things are not so strict anymore that one would not have a say in one's own marriage. I'm sure even just meeting a potential match requires your consent."

"I… I know that," says Gladio, scratching at the back of his head. “My old man’s been asking about it, but I know nothin’s gonna happen unless I say I’m game for it.”

Ignis lifts an eyebrow at this. "Then, may I offer some advice?"

Gladio winces, afraid of what Ignis might say about what admittedly was an exercise of carelessness and _stupid, bloody stupidity_. But he figures he deserves whatever Ignis has to say, and so he swallows down the anxiety and nods. 

"My advice is that before you go around arranging weddings, it is customary to court first and see how things go from there. I find getting to know each other in the context of a romantic relationship to be a wiser way to go about things. You never know, after all, whether things are going to go as well as you imagined. And besides--” Ignis smiles then, the spark of mirth in his eyes doing things to Gladio's already unsteady stomach. “I think dating first would be a lot more fun, wouldn't you agree?”

Gladio’s brain takes a while to follow, wondering if it is just wishful thinking that he hears what he thinks the other man is suggesting. He also doesn't know if he just imagines the pointed look Ignis gives him before the other rises, walking back to the kitchen and leaving Gladio to his swirling thoughts.

He eventually follows the sounds of Ignis puttering about in the kitchen (just a few strides from the couch where Gladio got shitfaced and word-vomitted before passing out, apparently, _fuck)._ For a moment he just watches Ignis like that, deft hands sealing food into glass containers they can just get to later when Noct and Prompto are also awake. He is always so efficient and his movements even more so, but he is also graceful and elegant in a way Gladio swears he can watch for days.

Gods, he can watch Ignis for the rest of his life.

"Hey Iggy," he says, when he finally works up the courage. "Do you-- would you like to have dinner with me sometime?"

Ignis glances up at him from the rim of his glasses, and Gladio is not so proud as to deny how weak that gets him. When Ignis smiles, too, he really lights up a room, never mind that the smile now looks a tad bemused and not a little exasperated. 

"Gladio," he says. "I thought you would never ask."

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me over at Tumblr/Twitter (@bestboyignis).


End file.
